


I Scream, You Scream...

by aurora_australis



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 21:53:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15649656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurora_australis/pseuds/aurora_australis
Summary: Ice cream, and a challenge, between two detectives on the St. Kilda foreshore. Set late Season 3.An entry for today's Flashfic Challenge.





	I Scream, You Scream...

**Author's Note:**

> Flash Fic entry so unbetaed and basically unedited. Eek!
> 
> Thanks as always to olderbynow and whopooh for organizing!
> 
> Prompt:  
> 

“Miss Fisher.”

Phryne looked up in surprise. She hadn’t expected to see Jack today, and certainly not here, looking for all the world like a man on holiday. But as it stood, she was absolutely delighted by the unexpected development.

“Hello, Jack! What are you doing here?”

“Same as you, I expect. The weather’s finally warm enough to enjoy a day at the foreshore. And I actually have the afternoon off, seeing as how you haven’t tripped over any dead bodies today… I assume?” He tilted his head in question to confirm.

“Correct,” she concurred. “But the day is young, Jack. Best not to make any plans for supper,” she replied with a wink.

“Sensible,” he agreed with a smile.

Phryne stared at her partner for a moment. Something was wrong. Oh. _Oh!_ He looked… _relaxed_. She wished she could attribute his current state to her presence, but it was far more likely the frozen confection in his hand.

Jack Robinson was eating an ice cream cone.

Not just eating. Savoring. And it was giving her _ideas_. Well. Two could play at that game.

She smiled, sweetly, then took a lick of ice cream. Made direct eye contact and took another, slower lick. Saw the most subtle blush begin to creep up his ears. _Oh_ , she thought, _how delightful!_ But just as Phryne was really starting to enjoy her game, Jack raised the stakes. 

Continuing the eye contact, he caught a rogue droplet on the side of the cone, and did something with his tongue that made Phryne’s jaw drop. She very nearly dropped her cone as well, and was suddenly rather frightfully close to dragging him into the nearby foliage.

She realized right then they needed to stop. There was only one way this game would end - with mutually assured destruction. And while that was something she was _very_ much looking forward to at some point, Jack would probably prefer not to begin in the middle of the afternoon at the foreshore in front of an ice cream truck.

Best to steer into safer waters.

“So, Jack,” she asked, taking a much more demure lick of ice cream and silently calling a sweet treat truce, “what flavor did you choose?”

“What do you think?” he asked, playfully hiding the cone from view.

She briefly cursed herself for not paying more attention to the ice cream when she’d seen it, but honestly, how on earth was she supposed to concentrate when the man was flagrantly violating the Obscenities Act with a refreshment?

“Well… it was light colored, I remember that.”

“True,” he agreed.

“And there were only six flavors with light colors offered by the vendor today. So this should be a fairly simple process of elimination.”

“By all means then, eliminate.”

Phryne never backed down from a challenge, and she wasn’t about to start now. “Alright. Vanilla, Mint, Hydrox Cookie, Coconut, Banana, Peach.”

“Well remembered, Miss FIsher.”

“Thank you, Jack. I have an _excellent_ memory.” Her eyes drifted to his lips ever so briefly. Yes…. an excellent memory. A distant car horn broke her reverie.

_Yes. Right. Mutually assured destruction. Ice cream. What was the question? Pull yourself together, woman!_

“What to eliminate first?” she asked lightly - she would not be undone by dessert. She considered the man before her carefully. 

“If you could be a little quicker, Miss Fisher, my ice cream is beginning to melt.”

“Oh hush,” she scolded, “these things can’t be rushed. Alright, so, not banana, obviously.”

“Why obviously?” he asked.

“You don’t like bananas.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I almost always have some in the kitchen, and in two years, you’ve never helped yourself once.”

“I could just be polite.”

“You’re exceedingly polite, Jack. Almost _too_ polite,” she said with a look that made it clear this was not about produce. “But I still say you hate bananas.”

“Yes, alright. It’s not Banana.”

“Good. One down, four to go. Sooooo. Not Peach either.”

“I like peaches,” he reminded her.

“You do. But you prefer them warm, or at least cooked. Cobbler, pie, the occasion biscuit.”

“I do…” he said, with a funny look on his face.

“What?” she asked, confused.

“Nothing,” he said, but the look stayed.

She raised an eyebrow.

“You… just notice a lot. I didn’t realize how well you knew me. My tastes, I mean. In food!” he quickly clarified.

She smiled. “I’m a detective, Jack,” she said blithely. But they both knew there was more to it than that. 

“So,” she continued, before things got too serious, “eliminating the fruits, we turn our attention to the more exotic options - Mint and Hydrox Cookie. Hydrox Cookie we can eliminate right away. Even distracted, I would have noticed the cookie pieces in the ice cream.”

A small smile formed in the corners of his mouth.

“And why, pray tell, were you distracted, Miss Fisher?”

She narrowed her eyes in response. Then she took a very slow, very deliberate lick of her ice cream, doing something at the end with her tongue that made his eyes huge and the blush return with a vengeance.

He coughed lightly and nodded for her to continue. Jack Robinson understood mutually assured destruction as well.

“So Mint,” she said pointedly, “is actually a very strong contender. It’s refreshing, clean, strong, manages to be simple _and_ complex at the same time. Very Jack Robinson.”

“Thank you… I think.”

“You’re welcome. But no, not Mint. Not today anyway. It’s only just warm enough for ice cream. You wouldn’t add a chill to the mix with mint.”

“I would not,” he agreed.

“So,” she said, excitedly, “and then there were two!”

“Quickly, Miss Fisher, I’ll be enjoying soup at this rate.”

She stuck her tongue out at him in response.

“Vanilla or Coconut… Well, logic says vanilla. Plain. Steadfast. Dependable.”

“Now you see, I take exception to that,” he said, completely seriously. 

“Oh?”

“Vanilla is a very interesting spice. It’s derived from orchids of the genus Vanilla, it’s been sought after by peoples across the globe for _at least_ four hundred years, it’s able to enhance the flavor of other substances in baking, and it’s the second-most expensive spice in the world. And it’s delicious. It might be dependable, but it’s anything but plain.”

“Well,” Phryne said, more than a little charmed by his strong defence of the plant, “that’s me told.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I just happen to think vanilla is underestimated.”

“A noble spice for a noble man,” she asserted, smiling in a completely innocent way. Jack Robinson was the vanilla of men - steadfast and dependable, yes, but so much more than most people knew. “But,” she continued, “you’re a noble man with a competitive streak, so if you’d chosen Vanilla today, you’d have waited until after I guessed to set me straight. So…. Coconut. You got Coconut.”

Jack smiled then, not the hidden smile he usually offered, but the broad, happy smile she hardly ever saw and always wanted more of. Just like him, she realized. She always wanted more.

“Well done, Miss Fisher,” he said, bringing the cone out from behind his back. It had melted slightly, but was still in fine shape to enjoy.

“Thank you, Jack. So, are you going to tell me why you chose it?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Should it be?”

“I’ve never had Coconut ice cream before.”

“You chose it… because you didn’t know if you’d like it?”

“I chose it because it was new. Different. An experience. I’m trying to have more of those these days. I suppose I’ve been inspired to of late.” He tilted his head at her and smiled again. “I have a friend who’s been enlightening me.”

Phryne smiled back. 

She was still looking forward to the inevitable destruction - of his lingering reserves, the last vestiges of her fear, hopefully some furniture - but this, this was pretty wonderful too. Mutually assured understanding.

“Shall we?” he asked, nodding towards the foreshore.

Phryne took his arm and they strolled down the foreshore and into the sunset.

**Author's Note:**

> Two hours did not allow for my usual Nerd Level 10 research mode. I was unable to locate what flavors were popular in 1929 fast enough, so I used those of a local ice cream parlor that is “set” 100 years ago. Hopefully it’s not too far off. If it is, well… suspend your disbelief. ;-)


End file.
